


The Pieces of Your Heart

by Meduseld



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Green Arrow - All Media Types, Green Lantern - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotional Constipation, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Sexual Tension, Two trainwrecks in love, they really need to talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 01:10:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14321238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meduseld/pseuds/Meduseld
Summary: It’s not a love story. But it could be.





	The Pieces of Your Heart

The first time Oliver sees Hal’s face, really sees it, underneath the mask and light, he thinks: _beautiful_.

It’s not that he doesn’t know that about himself, that sometimes it’s men that catch his eye, but Hal’s so gorgeous he’s in league of his own. It’s not just that he’s devastatingly handsome it’s that he knows it, uses it, curls his lips like a weapon.

So he doesn’t say it and they don’t move any closer.

Oliver’s indulged himself in this before, sure, but not often and never with someone he actually knows. And as time wears on he’s glad because he starts to understand that Hal’s deceptive, like a calm river that will drown you in the undercurrent the minute you dip in your toes.

They might know each other’s greatest secret, but not the deepest.

And he gets the feeling Hal has a lot of those, from the fractured glimpses he gets of his past and the Corps and whoever he spends his downtime with.

But it never goes away, the urge to fists his fingers in Hal’s hair and pull him close. The fact that Hal might cut his throat open with his teeth if he does only makes his pulse run quicker.

Until they nearly die for the thousandth time, this time in close to the heart of dying star lightyears from home and Oliver finds himself trembling with excess adrenaline, curled behind a panel in the Javelin. Hal finds him, voice soft and mask gone, and Oliver pulls him in. He goes easily, like he's expecting it.

He crushes his face to Hal’s chest and jerks at the groan he pulls from Hal. The grinding surprises him and he’s half angry until he realizes, in an electric burr, that he’s the one that’s harder than iron and rocking against him. He’s late to his own program, body ready since he pulled Hal into his lap, his hands moving too fast, too harsh, too eager, spurred by the little noises Hal’s making in his ear.

His lips slip helplessly against his skin, rougher than it looks, chasing Hal’s own and losing ground.

He comes like that, uncomfortable and tense, arms locked around Hal’s waist, shoulders bruising from Hal’s hands.

He thrusts, once, twice, against Oliver’s middle and doesn’t quite go limp. Soldier’s instinct.

Oliver could laugh.

He doesn’t.

The next time is the second verse, same as the first, a little bit louder, a little bit worse. Another tragedy, another close call, another rough and cramped and rushed crash of bodies somewhere dark.

Hal still doesn’t kiss him.

That part doesn’t change, no matter how many times they do it again. And they do, over and over, not even needing an excuse anymore.

The weirdest part is how it isn’t.

Everything’s the same, give or take. They go to bars and watch games and give each other shit. And one in three times Oliver’s blindsided by a thought like _I know what you look like when you come_. The next time it’s _I like how every part of you tastes_. And then _I could love you, if you let me_.

That last one makes him slam down his beer and pick up a barmaid instead, Hal laughing and egging him on.

They go on like that, Hal beside him more and more often and still impossibly unknowable, and Oliver surprised he’s still afloat, somehow, despite of it all. So it goes to shit, of course.

They’re sparring, not even really trying, killing time on the satellite between missions. Hal’s smiling.

Oliver aims for his knees, suddenly furious.

It’s deadly serious in a heartbeat and they’re grappling, Hal flipping him over just as he snarls, furious and frustrated, “Why won’t you fucking kiss me?”.

The look of surprise on Hal’s face would have been hilarious any other time.

As it is, Oliver takes advantage of the moment to flip him back over and they roll sideways on the mat, struggling at cross purposes, trying to get closer and further apart all at once.

“Why the fuck _not_?” Oliver can hear himself saying over and over again, darkly enjoying the interplay of emotions on Hal’s face, like a kid poking at a bruise.

Hal bucks, shoves him away, then falls on him and Oliver shifts his balance and they’re at it again.

Eventually his muscles feel too weak to hold him up and Hal doesn’t look any better, sprawled beneath him.

“Why?” Hal shakes his head, looks away. Oliver collapses beside him. He’s so tired and his eyes sting and everything feels like it’s happening somewhere far, far away.

After a moment, he does feel something.

Hal’s fingers, slipping into his.

“I’m kind of a mess, Ollie” he says at the ceiling. “Me too, man” he answers.

They lay there for a while, breathing slowing, smoothing out. After the room’s gone dark, now that the motion sensors stopped picking them up, Hal shifts.

He takes a deep breath, like a swimmer on the diving board.

Then he curls on his side and tucks his face, hesitant, into the crook of Oliver’s neck. Oliver puts his arms around him and doesn’t care that his legs are going numb.

Someone, beefy and dark haired, opens the door and slams it shut as soon as he catches sight of them.

After a beat, they collapse into giggles.

Hal sits up with a groan, hair a mess. He puts out a hand and Oliver takes it, lets him pull him up.

They smile at each other and Oliver thinks _Yeah. We could make this work._

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _[Heart’s a Mess](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MpN1j8R5lZ8)_ by Gotye, because I think I’m clever.


End file.
